Tangled Threads I: Spun Together
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Severus Snape is a desperate soul. And on Halloween Night, that desperation can pierce many boundaries. Including boundaries to another world. Desperation causes Snape to make a deal with a being known as Rumplestiltskin: Lily's salvation for the raising of a savior...and the rescue of a son. And now...more than one world will be forever changed.
1. Chapter 1: Desparate Souls

**Tangled Threads Book I: Spun Together**

 **Chapter One: Desperate Souls**

Severus Snape groaned as he regained consciousness. Everything hurt, courtesy of the Crucio he'd been subjected to, as well as the violent that Stunner that had sent him crashing against a wall and briefly into oblivion.

He shook his head, then fumbled in his robe for the potions he carried at all times. A Revitalizer, a Clarity Draft, along with a potion for pain and one for healing. He drank them, choking a little in his haste, then shoved himself to his feet as his memory of the last few minutes returned in a rush.

The Potters had been betrayed. Betrayed by their Secret Keeper. He didn't know who it was, only that they had been betrayed and the protection of the Fidelius rendered useless. Voldemort had informed his Death Eaters that he had the key to the destruction of the boy of prophecy, and that he would, this very night, destroy the boy and his family, then return to lead his faithful against the Wizarding World. Once the boy was dead, he would be unstoppable. Severus had long learned to distill the ravings of an unstable mind and the dross of vague plans from concrete, immediately relevant information.

The Dark Lord had been far too certain, too controlled. He was confident in a way that vague plans never made him, and coherent in a way that his wilder moods never permitted.

He had been punished because he had dared, as the others dispersed, to hang back. He had dared to ask the Dark Lord to spare Lily Potter. For himself. The Dark Lord had not been in a tolerant mood, and in no mood to listen to a follower who dared question his plans on the eve of his victory.

Severus paced. He needed to warn the Potters. He needed to warn Dumbledore.

But he didn't know where Dumbledore was. He knew, vaguely, where the Potters were, in Godric's Hollow, but with the Fidelius still in place, he knew he'd never find the correct house in time. Unless he were to follow on the Dark Lord's heels, but that would be suicide at best. Especially since he'd confessed his desire for Lily.

There had to be a way to save her. There had to be.

Damn Dumbledore for his secrets and his agenda, which meant he was temporarily out of touch. Damn the Potter's betrayer. Black, he thought. If it was true, he'd never forgive the mutt.

Then the fury died, sinking into despair. Damning James and Black and Dumbledore would mean nothing if Lily died. Everything he'd done, the risk he'd taken and the danger he'd been in for the past half-year, would mean nothing if Lily died. And he'd learned after Fifth Year that vengeance would be a poor comfort.

He couldn't lose Lily. Not like this, permanently. Not to death. He sank to his knees against a wall, breath heaving in and out of him as his mind raced over options.

He needed a way to get to Lily, to save her. He would give his life, his soul, anything and everything, to save her.

 _There has to be a way...please…_

 *****TTST*****

Rumplestiltskin paused his work, snapping his head up.

Something was happening. Something was invoking and waking magic in his castle. Something he hadn't initiated. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He turned, tracing the threads of magic absently, searching for whatever had captured his attention. His work-space was more disordered than usual, given that he'd begun preparing for the coming events several days ago.

Regina was even now preparing to cast The Curse. And he knew the young princess Ella was with child. Any day now, the last piece would fall into place. She would seek help in dodging the deal they had made, resulting in his incarceration, there to wait for the curse to sweep him away to the Land Without Magic.

That was why he'd been sorting through things in the Dark Castle, using magic to mark those things that should come with him. Not that he'd get any use out of them for the next 28 years, but still, they'd be useful once he'd awoken. Some of them could be bargaining chips. Some of them were imbued helpful magic. Some of them he just thought he might need.

None of them were what had caught his attention.

He traced the magic, surprised when it led him to the mirror room. He'd spent years seeking a way to enchant a mirror as a portal to another world, or at least a way to scry across the boundaries of the worlds to see how his son fared. He'd eventually come to realize that there needed to be magic on both ends for the mirror to work. Magic and some sort of connecting force, his will or another's. He'd eventually abandoned the research. Regina had later borrowed it, to become an expert mirror reader. With the added power of her Magic Mirror Entity, he'd had to either cover or store all his mirrors to prevent her from spying on him.

One of the small scrying mirrors on the wall was glowing softly. His eyebrow went up. Which realm...He probed it, and his heart started pounding.

The mirror was linking to something, something he'd never touched before. Something across the one boundary he'd given up crossing.

Something from the Land Without Magic was triggering his boundary scrying mirror. The smallest and strongest of the lot, the last he'd worked with before giving up the enterprise entirely.

He crossed the room at a bound, hands circling the mirror. "Show me."

The mirror flickered and flared, then cleared. Well, sort of cleared. It was like looking through clouded water. He couldn't have cared less. All that mattered was that it did clear, giving him a view of whatever had triggered the mirror.

The image showed a young man, dressed all in black in a style that called to mind his own robes. The robes he wore when he wished to walk abroad as an unnamed and unknown sorcerer. The only thing missing was the broad hood that Rumplestiltskin used to hide his distinctive features.

The young man was bowed, leaning against a wall. His expression was desolate, desperate, agonized, his face white and his hands clenched in fists against the stone.

A desperate soul. And even through the mirror, he could sense the magic in this man. There was power there, for all that the realm he stood in was meant to have none.

Rumplestiltskin double-checked the traces. No, he'd been correct. But how?

Perhaps the events leading up to The Curse had caused magic to leak over, infusing people with powers not native to the realm. Perhaps the barriers had thinned.

Perhaps the Land Without Magic wasn't as magic-less as it was rumored to be. Perhaps magic had been simply...hidden, in some form or fashion.

He dismissed the consideration as not worth his time. There would be time enough to ponder it, particularly while he was trapped in the cell Ella and her friends would confine him to. For now, he had a rare, impossible opportunity in front of him.

He could see the young man was desperate. And he could use that. After all, where there was a desperate soul, there was a deal that could be made.

He smiled, and set a spell that he hoped would carry his voice across the barrier.

 *****TTST*****

"Well now. This _is_ interesting."

Severus jerked upright, looking for the source of the voice. That was no voice that he recognized. But how could anyone enter this, one of the Dark Lord's secret meeting places?

"Over here, dearie."

He twisted, looking. There was a blank wall, containing the mirror the Dark Lord used sometimes for spying (it was easier to use people, and more informative, but sometimes a mirror was simpler).

"In the mirror dearie."

Severus frowned, moving toward the mirror. It was only then that he realized it was glowing softly. He stepped forward to look into it, then recoiled.

There was a man in the mirror, if man he was. He had a man's form, but his skin was textured like a dragon's, green and gold. He had wild hair and eyes that were reptilian in appearance, and a smile that might make even the Dark Lord blanch.

"Now now, don't be shy." The man – being? Beast? - gestured, flourishing an arm clad in a dark russet silk sleeve. "Come now, I've no time to waste, and I'll wager you're the same. So come on now." He smiled, showing that blackened grin again as his voice turned coaxing. "Come now. What's your name?"

"Severus Snape." He was too stunned to do anything other than respond.

"Ah. Nice, strong name. Nearly as good as my own." The being – he was close enough to a man that Severus should probably think of him such – dropped back into a half-bow. "Rumplestiltskin, Deal Maker extraordinaire, at your service." He straightened. "You must need something very badly to have contacted me, dearie."

"I didn't..."

"Oh, you did. Activated my mirror, which is no small feat, I assure you. Especially since I was not expecting this mirror to ever activate. So...since you've gotten my attention, what is it you want?" Severus opened his mouth to ask another question, and the man, Rumplestiltskin, shook one black-nailed finger warningly. "Ah-ah. Times a-wasting dearie. Skip the questions for now. What is it you want?"

Miracle or damnation, impossible coincidence or fever dream...Severus didn't care. "I need to save Lily."

"Lily. She's important to you, I take it?" Rumplestiltskin's nose scrunched, but it looked more like curiosity than scorn. He hoped it was. Then the man pointed at him. "Ah. You love her."

"Yes. I do." He felt his hands clench in his robes.

"Ah. And...does she love you?"

He'd rather have been asked if he wanted to be Crucio'd again, but he had no time to spare for the ever-present heartache that accompanied thoughts of Lily. "No."

The figure in the mirror reared back. "Unrequited eh. That does present a bit of a tangle. Still...I can help you. Now, what do you need to save your fair lady from?" He spun on his heel, pacing away from the mirror and then back with a nervous energy that mirrored Severus's own.

"The Dark Lord. He's going to kill her, so he can kill her son."

"Dark Lord? Haven't heard of him." Severus blinked in shock, but the man in the mirror was waving it away before he could say anything. "No matter. I can guess what he is. And, as it happens, I know some spells that can help. Magic, so powerful it can defeat any Dark Wizard. Even me, and that's saying something."

"What magic?" Severus stepped closer to the mirror.

"Why, the magic of True Love. Assuming you really do love this girl. Magic is emotion, dearie, and where there's a will, there's nearly always a way. So...want to give it a try?"

"Of course." The man's description went against much of his training, but Severus gave up the idea of arguing the point. If the man was wrong, he'd lose no more than he stood to lose now.

"Good. Then let's discuss the price. All magic comes with a price, you know."

Dumbledore already commanded his life and services. But he knew in his heart that Dumbledore couldn't help him now. "I will give you anything. If Lily survives."

"Good. I like a man who's willing to bargain. So." Rumplestiltskin turned away, flourished. Something appeared in a waft of purple smoke. "As you may have guessed, I'm not from your realm."

"Indeed." That much had been obvious.

"But I will be coming. So will a great number of other people from my realm. An Evil Queen has already set in motions plans to cast a curse. A great curse, that will trap all of us for 28 years, trapped in your world, frozen in time, all our dreams destroyed. But..." He waved a hand. "There are two people who will be outside this curse. Two...children."

He held up his other hand, revealing a hand-drawn picture of a boy in his teens. Dark haired and dark-eyed. "This is the first. His name is Baelfire. Or Bae. He's already arrived. The second..." The parchment disappeared in a swirl of smoke. "The second will be an infant. A girl child. Don't know her name, but she'll come on the wings of the same magic that transports the rest of us."

"What is it you wish?" Snape clenched his fists. He had no idea how long it would take the Dark Lord to find the Potters and breach their protections, but every second wasted was one second closer to Lily's death.

"Find those children. The boy in particular. But find those children. Take them into your care. Raise them. And when the time comes, when 28 years have passed, bring them to me. Bring them to break the curse. Promise me that, and I'll tell you how to save your woman." He smiled. The expression would have been terrifying if Severus hadn't spent the past few years in the service of the Dark Lord. "Do we have a deal?"

"Why two children?" Snape frowned.

"The girl...well, she's the one that's going to save us all of course. And the boy...well, the boy...is my business, but I suppose I can tell you." The smile dropped from his face. "The boy is my son. He fell to your realm some time ago. I want him found and taken care of." The smile reappeared. "So. Do. We. Have. A deal?"

Find two children and raise them. Not the easiest task, especially for a man like him. But in the balance was Lily's life. "We do."

"Wonderful!" The glee that lit the man's face was practically unholy "Then the deal is struck! Now..." He flourished. "First things first, you're gonna need to get to your lady-love's side."

"She is hidden."

"Yes, yes...well, I assume if this Dark Lord can find her, you can too. I mean, at the very least, you can find him I suppose. Magic like that leaves traces, if you know what you're looking for."

Severus's hand flew to the Dark Mark on his forearm. A way to take any Death Eater directly to the Dark Lord regardless of enchantments. It usually required a summons from Voldemort, but if he put enough power into it...He was a gifted wizard, and he knew he could do it.

"I see you've figured it out. So then...once you've reached the woman of your interest, here's what you do..." The imp flared his hand out. "Magic is emotion dearie. You were willing to bargain with me. Use that same determination. Focus on what you feel, what you're protecting. And make it strong. Otherwise, you're never gonna win."

It sounded too easy to be true. But the truth was that he knew no spell that would stop the Dark Lord. He wasn't even sure the Killing Curse would do it.

Then again, he had always been good at walling off his feelings. To bring them out like that...he would do it for Lily though. He'd do anything for Lily.

"You've got it? Well then, time's passing, and you'd better hurry. Remember, you've got a love to save and two children to find! I'd hop to it if I were you!" He started to turn away, then paused. "And one more thing..."

Snape stopped. Rumplestiltskin stopped smiling, his face oddly serious and suddenly much older looking. "When you find my boy, tell him...tell him I'm coming, and I'll see him soon, And tell him...I love him, and I never stopped looking for him." With another dark smile, Rumplestiltskin flourished, and the mirror went blank.

Man, imp, monster or Crucio-induced hallucination...he was right. Time was wasting. Severus hesitated, then snatched the mirror off the wall and bolted from the room and out into the night.

He only prayed he would be in time.

 *****TTST*****

Rumplestiltskin rubbed his hands together as the image faded and went blank. The thrill of realization was singing through his blood.

Of all the things he'd Seen or imagined, connecting with a sorcerer from a land supposedly without magic had been unexpected. Undreamed of, even. How it had happened, he had no idea. But it didn't matter.

There would be someone to raise the savior, did her parents succeed in getting her to safety. And he would ensure they did. As long as Ella did her part and got him into that prison cell, the rest would fall into place. And now, all unlooked for, he had an ally in that other world who would help the savior grow into a proper adult, ready to break the curse when the time came.

Even better, someone would be there to look for, and look out for Bae. He could send someone to find and save his precious, precious son.

He had no idea what magic had permitted this breach between worlds, but he didn't care. He was grateful to it. And even more grateful to the man who had agreed to deal with him.

"Severus...Snape."

He would remember the name. And when the time came...well, he supposed he owed the man a favor.

 _ **Author's Note:** I blame this idea on being sick, quarantined and very bored for a week and a half. But, it wouldn't go away, so..._

 _Next up...well, Severus goes to save Lily._


	2. Chapter 2: Magic is Emotion

**Chapter** **Two:** **Magic** **is** **Emotion**

Severus stopped as soon as he was outside the wards of his master's abode. His heart was pounding, fear and desperate hope mixing in his veins.

If he failed, he'd die slow, revealed for all time as a traitor. Lily would die too, and possibly her young son and any hope of Voldemort's defeat.

He couldn't afford to think about it. If magic was emotion, then any thoughts of failure would destroy his hopes as surely as a failed spell.

He put the thoughts away, cleansing them from his mind with the Occlumency exercises he'd learned before he began spying. Then he focused on the Dark Mark emblazoned on his arm. It burned black, testament to his lords exultation.

He focused hard, then Apparated, following the Mark's pull.

He hit the ground on a street in Godric's Hollow. The Mark burned, telling him that the Dark Lord was near by, but the wards kept him out. He cursed and began probing for some sign, anything, any way to break the Fidelius. His heart pounded frantically.

"S-S-Severus?" The timid voice made him whirl around.

Peter Pettigrew emerged from the shadows, expression working with nerves. Severus studied him for a moment, shocked at his appearance. Then realization hit with the force of a Stunner.

Pettigrew. Pettigrew was the unseen spy, the leak in Dumbledore's ranks. He'd been enjoined to discover the traitor by the Headmaster, but had never heard who it was, not even a rumor. The Dark Lord had been adamant that his spies work alone and separately, unaffected by the other.

Pettigrew must have gone to the Dark Lord, as he had gone to Dumbledore. The irony made him nearly sick. Of all the people, he might have suspected Pettigrew, save that he'd never thought the little rat would abandon the protection of his Marauder friends.

Pettigrew shuffled forward. "S-S-Severus? Why would you be here? The Dark Lord..."

There was no more time to consider. "I have urgent news for our lord. A new development, and it cannot wait. Where is he?"

Pettigrew shuffled in place, eyes flicking to the side. "I-I...have no idea what you mean..."

"Do not lie to me. Unless you wish me to tell the Dark Lord that it was you who delayed me." He'd always been good at threatening, ever since he'd grown into his full height and learned how to manipulate the pitch and tone of his voice properly. The Dark Lord had actually taught him that, the Dark Lord and Lucius, though he'd far surpassed the latter in the art of vocal intimidation.

Pettigrew quailed, whether at the tone of his voice or the threat. "He...with the Potters..."

"You know where it is?" Severus kept his voice sharp, but his gut was sinking.

Surely not even that fool James would have been daft enough to…

"N-N-Number 10, Griffin Road. R-R-Right there."

Pettigrew had been the Secret Keeper. The weakest, most spineless one of the Marauders. Severus felt his stomach twist, even as he the wards shimmered to reveal a two story house with the door blasted in.

He'd have rather had it be Black, much as he despised the mutt.

There was no time to think about it.

"Stupefy." The quickly whispered spell caught Pettigrew off guard and dropped him to the street. Severus bound him with an immobilizing spell, then dashed into the house, flinging a silencing spell and a Disillusionment spell over himself as he did so.

He found James at the foot of the stairs, amidst signs of a fierce battle. Potter had fought well and hard. But he hadn't been nearly good enough, and his wide, blank stare testified that he had died quickly, most likely to the Avada Kevadra.

He had died protecting Lily and his son. Severus could not hate him for that.

He stepped past Potter, respectful enough of what the man had protected not to callously step on the body, then took the stairs three at a time, just as a shrill cry reverberated down the stairs. "Not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl. Stand aside." The dark Lord's cold voice sent chills down Severus's spine.

He hit the top of the stairs at a dead run, skidding a little on the carpet. The door to the nursery was open, Voldemort framed by the wood, wand aimed at another person standing inside. Severus flung himself into the room, grateful that Lily and the Dark Lord were too focused on each other to sense his intrusion.

"For the last time, stand aside!"

"No!" Lily's face was salt white. Her wand was on the floor on the far side of the room. Either she hadn't had it in hand, or she'd been disarmed. Most likely disarmed. She was planted firmly in front of her son's crib, eyes wide with fear, but her expression determined.

A gesture of Voldemort's wand, and Lily was shoved to the side. The Dark Lord pointed his wand at the crib. "Avada..."

Lily flung herself forward. "Harry!"

Snape gathered his magic, wild and reckless, focusing on the area around Lily and the crib.

 _'Magic_ _is_ _emotion_ _dearie...make_ _it_ _strong,_ _or_ _you're_ _never_ _gonna_ _win.'_ Rumplestiltskin's advice echoed in his head.

So be it. He threw aside all his Occlumency barriers, all his walls. Somewhere, deep inside, were all the memories he'd ever cherished of Lily. Every childish question. Every lilting laugh. Every act of kindness. Every touch, every smile. He'd stored them all in his heart, held them close after their estrangement. Now he drew on all of them, on all the joy he'd felt in her presence, all his grief when they'd been parted. Even his aching hurt when she'd chosen Potter, his wretched shame when he'd called her Mudblood and she'd refused to forgive him.

He called on all the turmoil he'd experienced, the desperation he'd felt, when he'd learned that the Dark Lord was targeting the Potters, that he would kill Lily. The night he'd gone to Dumbledore. He'd agreed to sell his life, his body and his soul if only the old man would save them. He was no less desperate now.

His life for Lily's was a minuscule price to pay.

"...Kevadra!" The Dark Lord snarled the last word, and green light shot from his wand.

Severus flung the magic. It was far different than his usual tightly focused, tightlycontrolled power. This was strong, so strong it took his breath away, raw and wild in a way that not even his childhood episodes of accidental magic had ever been. It _burned_. Burned like someone had set fire to his very soul. It boiled out of him in a coruscating wave, practically alive, driven only be his desperate desire to protect Lily and her son. He loved Lily far too much to leave her son out of the spell, even if he had no care for the boy. Lily would be devastated if the child died.

The wild magic crashed into the Dark Lord's spell. Voldemort screamed in fury. Power exploded like a star gone nova in the small room, blasting away the windows and possibly part of the ceiling.

The Killing Curse rebounded against the Dark Lord, and he exploded into ash with a howl of rage. Magic recoiled against Severus as well, ripping the concealing spells away and lashing him with raw power that made him crumble to his knees.

It hurt, all the more agonizing when coupled with the torture he'd already endured. He groaned and collapsed the rest of the way to the ground. The pain would have been astounding, even if he hadn't been Crucio'd into unconsciousness before he'd come here.

He fought, but the scorching pain of the magical release, combined with his earlier torture and the power of the rebound, was too great. His hold on consciousness slipped away, and Severus sank into darkness.

 *****TT****

He was on his back, his head resting on something solid but slightly yielding. That was the first thing he registered.

He ached. He felt raw inside, as if he'd swallowed an Incendio somehow. His whole body tingled, in a way that was both unpleasant and oddly bracing as well.

"Severus?" The speaking of his name caught his attention. That voice…

He opened his eyes.

He was lying on a floor. And bending over him… "Lily..." His voice was hoarse, and his throat hurt, as though he'd been screaming.

Had he? He remembered arriving, just as the Dark Lord tried to kill Lily's son. Lily had tried to save the boy, and he had…

He had followed Rumplestiltskin's advice, channeling all of his magic through his emotions, and flinging it between the Dark Lord and Lily.

It had rebounded. The dark Lord had been reduced to dust, but there had been a rebound. It had hurt.

Had he screamed? He didn't recall it, but the entire memory felt blurry.

"Severus?" Lily's brow creased in a worried frown. "Severus? Are you..."

"I am...functional." He was capable of talking and breathing at any rate. He thought magic might be beyond him at the moment, and he felt exhausted beyond belief. "The Dark Lord?" He'd seen it, but he had to be sure.

"Gone." Lily's voice was tight. She looked pale. He wondered, in a dazed sort of way, if she might be in shock.

"You? The boy?" He hardly cared for Potter's son, but Lily loved the boy. That made him important.

"We're all right." Lily's voice was quiet. Then her eyes widened. "James..."

He managed to lift a numb hand and catch her arm as she started to rise. "It's...too late."

Grief filled her eyes. "You can't know..."

"I passed him when I arrived." Talking was getting easier, but he still felt wrung out. "There is nothing to be done for Potter, save bury him." As little as he liked the man, he was sorry to see her pain at the words. Had his own relationship with the man been less vehement, he would have offered his apologies and condolences. He didn't think they would go over well at the moment. Nor did he have the strength to muster the neutrality required.

He tried to get a hand into his robes, to rescue the potions he still had tucked in the inner pocket. He needed a Pain Reliever and a Strengthening Solution at the very least. Probably a Magic Replenisher as well.

His hand was shaking too much and too weak to manage. He would have cursed in frustration if he'd been stronger or less tired.

Lily noticed, even in her grief for her husband. "Severus?"

"There are potions in the inner pocket of my robes. I cannot reach them." He told her which ones he wanted.

Lily reached into his robes. Even as wearied as he was, he felt a thrill of elation at her gentle touch.

It was the most contact they'd had since Fifth Year. Certainly the kindest she'd been towards him since that disastrous day. Though he was probably fortunate that he was too wearied to react.

Lily managed to withdraw the potions, then unstopped them without a word and fed them to him, one by one, lifting his head and pouring them carefully down his throat. The painful tingling feeling faded from his body, replaced with warmth. Strength returned to his limbs, and he stopped shaking.

Lily helped him sit up as the last of the potions took effect. He could see the wheels turning in her head. "Severus...what happened? Why...how did you get here? Why?"

He winced at the faintly accusing tone in her voice. "You were betrayed." He pushed himself carefully to his feet. Lily rose with him. "Does this house have a Floo?" He needed to get Lily to safety, in case Pettigrew escaped to warn the Death Eaters, or in case there was more than one traitor. And he needed to report what had happened.

"The downstairs fireplace..."

"We should take you and the boy to safety. I do not know how deeply you were betrayed, but the Fidelius has been broken."

"Where do you intend to take me? Severus..." She caught his arm, forcing him to face her. He winced at the realization that her hand was clamped over the Dark Mark, which hurt as if he'd burned it into his skin. "What is happening?"

"I have no time to explain. Not here. Lily..." He sighed. "I would ask you to come with me. I need to speak immediately to Dumbledore, and his office is undoubtedly one of the safest places for you and your son. Come with me, and I will tell you...everything."

She frowned, then her expression softened. "All right. But Severus..." She held him back. "What did you do? I've never seen a spell like that."

"It was not a spell, not in the strictest sense of the word. It was...a power...a power I only recently learned to harness. I cannot fully explain it. I need to report it to Dumbledore. Allow me to explain it to him first, and perhaps he will help both of us make sense of it."

He knew what Rumplestiltskin had told him, but he shrank from telling Lily what he had done. He feared her reaction without a third party to offer restraint. In Dumbledore's presence, she might only hex him, but she might kill him here.

Lily studied his face, and he set his mask in place. Finally, she nodded. "All right. Let me get Harry." She turned and collected her wand, then turned to her son. The boy was sniffling quietly, emerald eyes wide and terrified. Well, that was to be expected. Lily bundled him into a blanket, and wrapped him tight in her arms. Then she turned to the door and left, her steps light and fast. Severus followed.

Lily faltered at her husband's body at the foot of the stairs. Severus put a hand on her shoulder to urge her to hurry, but didn't press her when she stopped with a muffled sob and cast a Stasis Charm on her husband's body, followed by a protective shield. He even found himself layering another shield over Lily's. He caught her startled glance, but made no response to it, not even a look.

He'd never liked Potter. He never would. But the man had died in defense of Lily. He had bought the critical minutes for Severus himself to arrive. For that, Severus would honor the man. He would preserve the body, and keep his silence in other matters.

Lily finally stepped around her husband and made her way to the sitting room. The room was scorched by ricochets from the battle in the stairs, but the fireplace was intact. Lily lit it with a quick spell. Severus stepped to her side and secured his grip on her shoulder one had extended in front of both of them to hold her son. He flung in a handful of Floo powder, muttering the counter-charm to Dumbledore's grate as the fireplace roared green. A flicker of phoenix red told him it had worked. "Headmaster Dumbledore's Office."

He and Lily stepped forward and were whisked away.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _So there we have it._


	3. Chapter 3: Explanations and Old Powers

**Chapter** **Three:** **Explanations** **and** **Old** **Powers**

Dumbledore wasn't in his office when they stepped out of the grate. Not that it was a surprise. The Death Eaters had scattered to make ready to revel in their master's victory. Doubtless Dumbledore had been summoned to deal with one event or the other by the Ministry or an Order Member.

Severus drew a deep breath, then summoned his Patronus. The magic tingled strangely, but the summoning came far easier than he would have expected. And it was...bright. Not the soft glow he was accustomed to, but a brilliant light, like a star come to earth.

He relayed his message for the Headmaster and watched as the doe bounded off into the night. Then he turned to Lily.

Lily had settled into one of the chairs, and was gently rocking her son, soothing him. Her wide eyes indicated that she'd seen his Patronus, and Severus winced.

Finally Harry quieted and settled into a light doze on his mother's shoulder.

Lily looked up at him. "Severus...a doe…?"

"Yes. It's always been." He was saved from having to say anything more by the flare of the fireplace.

Dumbledore emerged looking somewhat tired, but also avidly curious. Blue eyes widened as he took in the tableau. "Severus. With Lily and young Harry I see." he moved to his desk and settled into a chair. "It would seem that a great deal has occurred within the last few hours."

He leaned back. "Before you give your report, Severus, I feel it prudent to tell you that I was contacted by multiple Order members regarding the movement of several groups of Death Eaters, moving to strategic locations and raising quite the ruckus. I also feel you should know that I was contacted by Sirius Black less than an hour ago, regarding his deep concern over the disappearance of Peter Pettigrew from his safe-house, and his fear that the Potters were in danger. I had just contacted Hagrid and asked him to make his way to Godric's Hollow when I received your message."

"Indeed." Severus nodded. "I believe I can explain...much, if not everything."

"Please continue." Albus's eyes went vacant for a moment. Seconds later, a house elf popped in and delivered a tray with tea, biscuits, and settings for three. "In the meantime, I suspect we will all be better with a little refreshment." He helped himself to a biscuit. "I assume, as Mrs. Potter is here and you have not asked me to remove her, that you do not mind her being taken into confidence?"

"I have no objections. My position is compromised in any event. And I gave her my word that I would explain."

"Very well. As you wish." Albus settled back.

"Severus?" Lily's voice was questioning.

He could lie. But there was no point, not with Albus there. Besides, after what he had done, he had no desire to lie. Let Lily know the truth of what he was, and make whatever judgment she saw fit. She had always done so anyway.

He unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve and rolled it up. Lily gasped when she saw his forearm, and Dumbledore's eyebrow rose.

The Dark Mark had faded into almost nothing, but it was still faintly visible. More so than he might have expected, since the flesh around it was raw and burned, as if he'd laid his arm in a flame.

Lily broke the silence first. "Severus..."

"Severus is indeed a Death Eater." Dumbledore's voice was mild. "For the past year or so, he has also been my greatest source of information regarding the movements of Voldemort and his followers. He has also been responsible for providing false information to the Dark Lord, in aid of preventing him from foiling our plans, just as the information he has provided has allowed us to foil theirs. Indeed, it was on his information that we knew you and your family had been targeted by the Dark Lord."

Lily blinked, wide-eyed with surprise. Severus felt a rush of something like gratitude. It was rare for Dumbledore to offer him such kindness, and he suspected a price was attached, but it was appreciated. Lily would believe the old man, where she might not believe him.

"I...see." Lily sat back.

Dumbledore took her silence for understanding and gestured politely. "Severus, please continue."

Severus nodded. "The Dark Lord summoned his followers at sundown this evening. He told us that he intended to make an end to his 'adversary', that he had discovered the means to track the Potters, and that by the following morning, he would rule the Wizarding World unchallenged. He dispatched groups to strategic locations, near the Ministry, near here, and close to several major towns throughout Britain, to await his signal that he was victorious. The Death Eaters were to sow panic and fear in the meantime, and then burn the towns at the appointed time, to declare the Dark Lord's victory."

"I had reports of such." Dumbeldore nodded. "Muggle-baiting, and some hexing. There were, I believe, fairly heated battles in Diagon Alley and Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Those were two locations. I can give you memories of the rest, though I have no doubt the Death Eaters have fled, having failed to receive a signal from the Dark Lord."

"I am sure you're right. But continue. I gather you did not set out with the rest?"

"I did not. I remained behind. I made an effort to delay the Dark Lord, to change his plan. He was...displeased. I was unconscious when he departed."

Dumbledore studied him a moment, no doubt seeing the traces of torture that he could not hide. "I see. That was, perhaps, a tad reckless."

"It was. But the Dark Lord...he knows..." He felt his stomach lurch. To admit to his own passion, in front of Lily, especially in that context...to tell her he'd gone to Voldemort and confessed himself obsessed with possessing Lily and revenging himself upon James in order to try and protect her... "He knows my general opinion regarding the Potters." That was the closest he could get. Let Lily make of it what she would.

Dumbledore was gracious enough not to force him to elaborate. "Of course. Please continue."

"I revived, and began searching for a way to thwart the Dark Lord. During my search, I was contacted, inadvertently, by an individual whom I will speak more of later. He gave me a possible method for finding and thwarting the Dark Lord. As I felt there was no time to summon help or explain, I left the meeting house and Apparated to Godric's Hollow, where I was blocked by the wards. By the Fidelius."

"I would expect nothing less. However, your presence here with Mrs. Potter indicates that either you found a way through, or that she fled the wards."

"The Fidelius was broken by it's Secret Keeper. Pettigrew. He gave me passage. He also revealed himself to be a Death Eater. He is the spy in your ranks that both you and I have sought for so many months without success. Once he had revealed the location, I Stunned and Immobilized him."

"Indeed. One moment." Dumbledore lifted his wand, and a Patronus burst forth. Dumbledore imparted the message, and it went speeding away. "One hopes that Sirius and Hagrid have not already discovered and released Pettigrew. But, in any event, they will at least be able to spread the word as to who the traitor is. And Black, of course, should be warned that his former friend is no longer the loyal compatriot he seems to be."

"Indeed." Honestly, Severus couldn't care less about Black, but he did have to admit he would hate to see Pettigrew get away.

Dumbledore settled back behind his desk. "And what transpired next..."

"I went inside the Potter home. James Potter had already been defeated. He was dead when I entered, and the Dark Lord had cornered Lily and her son upstairs in the nursery. I arrived just as he pushed her aside and tried to kill the boy. Lily tried to protect her son."

"And, in spite of every expectation, both mother and son survived. Whole and unscathed. Interesting." Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him. "Perhaps you have an explanation for this?"

"Something exploded." Lily spoke up. "There was a huge magical explosion. He-who-...Voldemort, cast the Killing Curse. Then this huge wave of energy, wild energy like accidental magic, it...it exploded around Harry and I. It blasted the Killing curse backwards into Voldemort, and he exploded into ash. That's when Severus appeared out of nowhere. Then the magic seemed to collapse back into him, and he collapsed. When he woke up..."

"I was drained. I required several Potions. Once I had recovered adequately, I brought Lily and her son here, where they would be safe." Severus finished the tale.

"Quite prudent. Quite prudent indeed." Dumbledore nodded.

Silence fell. Severus sat rigidly in his chair, knowing that Dumbledore had noticed the gaps in the story. Undoubtedly, the old man could put some of the pieces together. Could Lily?

He wasn't sure if he hoped she did, or hoped that she never understood what he had done. Though he suspected Dumbledore would force the explanation out of him before the night was done.

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, blue eyes gazing at the ceiling for several minutes before he broke the silence. "I sense a number of things you have left out of your story, Severus. Might I be correct in assuming that those things involve the stranger whom you mentioned so briefly?"

"You would be, Headmaster." Severus fished in his pocket and drew out the mirror. His nerves were still raw enough that he could feel the tingle of the otherworldly magic that had connected to it. Or perhaps he was simply more sensitive, having used Rumplestiltksin's method of magic to save Lily.

He set the mirror on Dumbledore's desk. "This is a mirror that the Dark Lord used, at times, for scrying. He enchanted it to be particularly powerful, capable of seeing through all manner of wards, shields, and barriers. He often boasted that there was no place he could not see, did he will it."

Dumbledore's long finger caressed the mirror, and Severus saw the sharp glint of interest in his eyes. "Indeed. And yet...it is not Voldemort's energy which currently suffuses the glass."

"It is not. When I awoke and realized what had happened, what the Dark Lord had set out to do, I was...concerned. I did not think I could reach you in time to save the Potters. Certainly, I had no time to find an Order member and relay my information to them, especially in light of the explanations that would have been required. Something of my agitated state activated the mirror, but not in a manner that the Dark Lord had ever used it for. Instead, the scrying property...Headmaster, I do not understand how it was possible, but the scrying mirror contacted a – being, a man – in another world."

"Indeed. I should not be surprised. Many things are possible, in the right frame of mind. And on this night, this night of Halloween, many barriers are thinned." Albus tapped the mirror. "And did this entity, by chance, provide you with a name?"

"He did. He called himself...Rumplestiltskin."

"Curious."

Lily frowned. "Rumplestiltskin? That's the name of a character in a childrens fable. A muggle childrens tale."

"Quite correct. And quite interesting. And I may, perhaps, have a theory regarding that. However, before that, Severus...if you would be so good as to finish your tale."

Severus nodded, feeling his shoulders relax slightly. At least Dumbledore didn't think him mad. Many others would have.

"He offered me a deal. In fulfillment of his part of it, he taught me the method by which he uses magic, which is far different from the way magic is taught here. I saw him perform magic with no wand and no incantation. What he taught me was meant to be used to save the Potters, in return for a favor that I am meant to do for him."

"Indeed? And what favor might this consist of?" Dumbledore studied him.

"He said that he and a number of his people, people from his realm, will soon arrive in ours, though I gather from his speech that he spoke of their arrival in the Muggle realm, rather than the Wizarding world. He spoke of their arrival in a Land Without Magic. He told me that there were two children, one who has already come, and one who will arrive shortly before they do. He commanded me to find and care for the children, until the spell that transported his people has run it's course." He frowned. "He spoke of it as a curse, which he claimed one of the children would be instrumental in breaking."

"I see. That is...quite the story." Dumbledore stroked his fingers across the mirror.

"It's unbelievable." Lily spoke up. She'd gone pale and rigid while they spoke, clutching her infant son to her. The boy was asleep, no doubt too wearied by magical shock and stress to stay awake. Lily looked little better. "A magical character from a Muggle tale appears in an enchanted mirror, and teaches you a special spell, in return for asking you to raise two children. Severus, it's ridiculous." Her voice was high, threatening to crack into hysteria.

"Indeed. It most assuredly is." Dumbledore spoke before Severus could, which was good. Severus himself wasn't in the best of shape, and between torture, magical drain, magical backlash, and the strain of actually being in a room with Lily after years, actually speaking to her, his own temper was strained to the snapping point.

Dumbledore continued. "It is quite ridiculous, and quite unbelievable, save for several key points. Firstly, that there is indeed a strange power still emanating from this mirror. Second, as you yourself have said, you were saved by a unique manifestation of magic, the like of which you have never seen." Lily seemed to be calming under the old man's explanation, and his soothing, quiet tone of voice.

Severus relaxed a little. Dumbledore believed him. He was by no means fool enough to relax completely, but Dumbledore's word went uncontested in most cases, and it would shelter him somewhat. From Lily's incredulous censure as well as anything else.

Dumbledore continued. "Third, the evidence of the magical drain and backlash is quite evident in Severus himself. Fourth, there is no reason for him to concoct such a tale, when there are other explanations, more reasonable ones, that could be produced. Including the invention of a new spell or potion, both of which Severus is quite adept at. Fifth, Lord Voldemort was clearly destroyed, as you yourself have testified. And last, there is simply the fact that I have never known Severus to lie in any report he has given me since he first agreed to undertake the dangerous task of spying on Lord Voldemort, much less try to cover a lie by using children's tales."

Lily slumped. "Of course. I apologize, Headmaster. Severus. It's just..."

"You are very tired, and clearly overwrought with the death of your husband, and the near escape both you and your son have had. There is no shame in being a little...unreasonable at times. Indeed, I have known a good many men and women who were far less rational, for far less cause." Dumbledore smiled at her, and Lily relaxed enough to smile tiredly back at him.

Dumbledore gestured, and a steaming cup of tea relocated itself to land next to her elbow. Another gesture, and a small settee was transformed into a padded, fluffy child seat. Lily settled Harry into it with a sigh, then picked up her tea and sipped at it. After a few moments, some of the strain left her face.

"Thank you Headmaster." She sipped again. "I don't understand...why...assuming that Severus is telling the truth, how and why would a man from a child's tale appear in a mirror?"

"That is the question I myself should like answered, Headmaster." Severus set his own cup to the side. "I was...determined to prevent the death of the Potter family, and I was told by Rumplestiltskin, if that is indeed my contact's identity, that it was that determination which allowed me to contact him. However, there are always desperate people, and more every day since the war began. I see no reason that my determination should forge a link that others do not."

He caught the slight gleam in Dumbledore's eye, and knew the Headmaster hadn't missed his use of the word 'desperate'. Thankfully, Lily seemed to have.

"I suspect there are many factors involved, some of which even I am unaware. The strength and compatibility of your magic with his. The strength of the spells on the mirrors that were used. Their geographic locations in relation to one another on different planes. The thinning of certain barriers, given that this is All Hallows Eve. Perhaps something to do with the spell, or curse, that your correspondent mentioned, which might have opened paths and formed connections that were previously unavailable. Any one of these might have influenced the connection made."

"And have you any thoughts as to who this man was?"

"None whatsoever. Only that, as his name appears in tales from this world, that it would be most inadvisable to fail in following through with your end of the bargain."

"I had not intended to go back on my word. You, of all people headmaster, know that I keep my oaths." Severus glared at the Headmaster.

"Of course." Dumbledore raised a conciliatory hand. "I did not intend to call your honor into question. Only to issue a friendly warning. I fear I had assumed that you would find the task of finding and raising two children to be somewhat daunting, and I didn't wish for that to dissuade you."

The idea of raising two children, especially given the example he'd had as a child, _was_ somewhat daunting. But he was no fool. Powerful magic had been involved with that meeting, and if what he'd unleashed in the Potter home was an example of what Rumplestiltskin did every day, he had no wish to upset the other magic user.

Besides, he would not be foresworn. Not in this.

He settled for a shake of his head. "The finding part is not difficult. It is a matter of tracking down and tracing similar kinds of magical residue in this world. The magic to cross realms even in speech alone is powerful, and will not be easily erased. To raise a child...will be somewhat more difficult, but it is beyond neither my skills nor my abilities."

"I never doubted it. Though I do wish to reassure you, there are those who can help you, should you need assistance."

He doubted that anyone would care to help him. Still, there was no point in saying that. He settled for a slight nod. "I shall bear that in mind. However, Headmaster...I should like to know your thoughts on the identity of the man I spoke to."

"Indeed. His identity is most curious. However, without any other evidence, I suggest that we assume that he is precisely who he says he is." Dumbledore folded his hands together and regarded both of them with a serene expression.

"But..." Lily frowned. "Rumplestiltskin...he's a character in a story."

"All the more reason. There is, after all, no reason why a man in a different realm should claim the name of a child's book character. But, on the other hand, the fact that the name exists does indeed suggest that Rumplestiltskin is a real person, though most likely not as the tale describes. After all, very few people are like their literary descriptions, if only because most such descriptions are so very one-dimensional." Dumbledore tapped his fingers together. "His unusual magic also supports the theory."

"How?" Snape growled out the word. He was tired, aching, and fast running to the ends of his reserves.

"Ah. I have a theory." Dumbledore raised a finger. "Only a theory, mind. But...Though Professor Binns may not be particularly adept and explaining it, the Wizarding Statute of Secrecy was hardly the first time that the magical world and the more mundane one have thought to separate. There is also evidence that wizards in the past, wizards such as Merlin and the Founders, had a great many powers and skills that the wizards of today have lost. Spells that no one, or very few alive can wield properly, powers that no one understands. Such as the one you were taught this evening, Severus. I have found evidence, in my long years of study, of spells so great they reshape reality around them, perhaps even separate two realities. It is my belief that, in times of great distress for the magical population, great wizards such as Merlin used the spells to separate the magical realm from the Muggle one. Not conceal it, but completely separate it, the way legends say that Merlin's predecessor altered the existence of Avalon, and Merlin is rumored to have done to Camelot."

"But then why..." Lily stopped.

Dumbledore continued. "Of course, such separations would have resulted in the removal of the most powerful magical folk of that time, leading to the weakening of magic, and the loss of knowledge we now find ourselves victim of. I suspect the barriers are not perfect, and sometimes there are...cracks, which allow knowledge, magic, or entities to break through."

Severus considered it. He wanted to argue, to deny it. Nevertheless, Dumbledore's points were valid, and reasonable. And the old man had an intuition about such things that was highly uncanny. His theories were often as solid as most people's proven facts and laws. And with no further information, it was quite simply the best theory they had.

Besides, he was far too weary and sore to spend any more energy chasing the theory. He knew what had happened, he knew what he had done, what he had seen, and he knew what had to come next. That was really all that mattered at present. There would be time enough to sort out the rest. 28 years of time to research it, given what Rumplestiltskin had said.

Dumbledore must have seen him sag, and certainly Lily was wilting, exhaustion flooding in to replace the adrenaline of before. The older wizard rose and came around the desk, to lay gentle hands on both their shoulders. On his perch, Fawkes trilled a soothing melody that seemed to slip into Severus like a hot brandy laced with Calming Draft, only twice as good. In the chair nearby, Lily visibly relaxed, some color coming to her cheeks for the first time all night. Harry, sleeping restlessly in his padded chair, dropped into quiet slumber.

Dumbledore spoke softly, his voice low and soothing. "But all this can and will wait for another day. Both of you are exhausted, mentally and physically. And, unless I am mistaken, in dire need of a place to sleep away the events of the evening. Fortunately, Hogwarts has a great deal of available space, which I highly recommend both of you make use of." His hands tightened, but the grip was light, easy, soothing and encouraging, rather than painful. "I should like for all of you to be seen by Madame Pomfrey. As both of her private patient rooms are clean and unoccupied, I would suggest taking them for the night. We shall contrive a bed for young Harry. Then, tomorrow morning, after you have been examined and pronounced fit, we shall do what needs to be done."

The Infirmary private room was one Severus had used before, after missions gone wrong. Not only was it far easier for him to reach, in his current condition, than the hovel he called home, but it was infinitely preferable. He managed a stiff nod of acquiescence, the same time Lily managed a weary one. Dumbledore smiled. "Well then, I suggest we get you settled." He helped Lily out of her chair.

Severus heaved himself out of his own chair, staggering on limbs that seemed made of stone and lead. He was just turning towards the door when a thundering knocking sounded on the thick oak planking, and a voice he would have given anything not to hear shouted from the other side.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!"

 _ **Author's Note:** So, what did you think of Dumbledore's theory? And everything else?_

 _Next up...some arguments, some discussions._


	4. Chapter 4: Confrontations and Decisions

**Chapter Four: Confrontations, Declarations, Decisions**

Severus winced as the door crashed open and Sirius Black bounded inside, frantic in his agitation. "What's going on Dumbledore? I've just been to James and Lily's, the house is in ruins, and..." He stopped abruptly, rocking back on his heels as he noticed the other occupants of the room. "Lily!"

"Sirius..." Lily stepped forward, but not fast enough to prevent the distraught wizard from noticing Severus, who had backed up towards the fireplace.

He'd been hoping to Floo into the Infirmary before Black noticed him, but he hadn't been fast enough.

Sirius's wand was in his hand almost before anyone could blink, a snarl curling his lip. "What are you doing here, Snivellus? You don't belong here."

"Sirius!" Lily stepped between them. Severus kept his wand in its holster. Aside from his weakened condition, he didn't trust either his temper or his control if he drew on Black. He didn't intend to risk hitting Lily with a wayward spell, or her son.

Dumbledore stepped between them as well, hand upraised to forestall another outburst. "Severus is here on my orders, Sirius."

Sirius's lip curled. Severus sneered right back. He wasn't going to be intimidated by Black, nor insulted by him. He still felt far weaker than he would like, and weary to his bones, but not so weak and weary that he couldn't handle a Marauder.

Sirius glared at him, but reluctantly dropped his wand and put it away. His words were dripping venom. "James is dead." He stepped around Lily, around Dumbledore, eyes glittering with a fury that bordered on madness. "But I'll bet you know all about it, don't you Snape? Heard from your master lately?" He stopped only a few feet away, and Severus could almost feel the magic boiling around him, fueled by his hate. "I'll bet you celebrated when he went after James and his family."

He lunged forward, slamming Severus backward into the fireplace wall before anyone could move. "I don't know what you told Dumbledore, but you'll never convince me you're not a Death Eater, you slimy prick. Or that you had nothing to do with James's death."

"Sirius! That is enough." Dumbledore intervened. "Enough."

Lily pushed her way between them. "Sirius...Severus got Harry and me out alive."

Sirius staggered back in shock. Dumbledore took that moment to intervene again, his voice calm. "Sirius. Please do sit down."

The Marauder glared at Severus, but thumped into the seat that Dumbledore conjured. Dumbledore looked at him sternly over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

"Severus is an informant. He entered Voldemort's ranks some time ago, and has, for the past year and a half, been passing us vital information. I have already made notes with the Wizengamot testifying to such. This evening, he was informed of the attack on the Potters, as well as certain other attacks taking place, and made a valiant effort to prevent their success, as well as to provide me with even more critical information regarding the leak of Order secrets to Voldemort and his followers."

Sirius jumped up, snarling. "It was you!" His wand was out again in a second, pointing at Severus. "You were the one who named Peter..."

"I was. He identified me as a follower of the Dark Lord, then knowingly released the Fildelius location to me." Severus stood his ground, his own anger a comforting burn under his ribcage. It made him feel stronger, even if he knew rationally that his reserves were fast burning away. He'd collapse soon, potions or no. "Your precious Marauder compatriot betrayed you. All of you. Deal with it, Black."

"Maybe he did. But how did you know where to go?"

"I followed the Dark Lord. His magic leaves...traces, for those who know him, or bear his mark." There was no point in hiding what he was, not here, not now. In any case, there was likely to be a huge outcry once people discovered the Dark Lord was gone, and he wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry descended into a fever of witch hunts and Death Eater purges following it. He also wouldn't be surprised if more than one of the Dark Lord's followers gave up names to stay out of Azkaban. His name included.

Black's jaw clenched. "As an Auror, I ought to arrest you and throw you in Azkaban."

Severus shivered in spite of himself. Azkaban. It would be bad enough if it were a normal prison on a rock. But the Dementors...the Dementors would tear his mind and soul into shreds.

If he were in Azkaban, he would be unable to fulfill his pledge to his benefactor. He had no idea what the consequences of being foresworn to Rumplestiltskin might be, and no desire to find out.

"Severus is under my protection and my sanction, Sirius." Dumbledore intervened again. Severus had never been more grateful to the old man. "As such, I must insist that you leave him with me. Surely you do not think that he will be able to cause trouble under my care?" Sirius snarled, but relaxed. Dumbledore went on, quite as if he hadn't noticed. "In any case, there are more important things to be dealt with. Voldemort has been defeated, and the word must be spread."

Sirius Black rocked backward, mouth gaping open in shock. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..." He swallowed audibly, gulping air into his lungs. "Defeated?"

"Defeated, by the very same magic that saved Lily and young Harry."

Sirius blinked, shaking his head in a manner reminiscent of a dog shaking off water. "How? Did James...or Lily..."

"It was Severus." Lily spoke up.

"Indeed."

"What?" Black stared at him again, eyes wild and manic, almost insane with the tumult of emotions.

It might be possible to convince Black that he had saved Lily and her son. They would never convince him that he had legitimately been too late to save James. And he highly doubted that Black would be convinced it hadn't all been a ruse, or the use of Dark magic.

Severus was simply too weary to go through with arguing it. Already the brief strength lent to him by the potions, the phoenix song, and his anger was fading. He had no wish to get into an argument with Black. He had no wish to deal with the outcry that would sweep over the Wizarding world once the Dark Lord's defeat was publicized. He had no wish to deal with the backlash that would follow that. Whether he was decried as a Death Eater or proclaimed as a hero, there would be no escaping it.

All he truly wished to do was sleep. Sleep, and then begin the steps that would allow him to uphold the deal he had made with Rumplestiltskin. After all, Lily was safe. Her son was safe. That was all that mattered to him.

He turned away from the spectacle of Black struggling to process the information. "Headmaster, I wish to retire now, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I have no doubt you need the rest. Do you wish me to send you anything?"

"No. Not now." He shook his head.

"Then rest. I shall have the House Elves and Madame Pomfrey alerted to see you when you wake."

He wanted to protest the inclusion of the medi-witch, but practicality stilled his tongue. He settled for a brief nod, then snatched a pinch of Floo powder, just as Black finally found his voice again.

"Snape..."

He tossed the powder down and shouted for the Infirmary before Black could snarl out anything else, then strode through the fire into blessed silence. Once across the threshold, he made his way to the private room that was most often his. He managed to unclasp his cloak and remove his boots before he collapsed onto the bed, but the effort of rolling over made his vision dance and his head swim.

Severus sighed, then surrendered once more to the darkness.

 *****TTST*****

There was someone in the room with him. That was the first thing Severus was aware of. There was someone in his room.

The clean scent of the Infirmary registered, as well as the softness of the bed, before he could truly start to panic. That was enough to remind him what had happened.

The Potters. Rumplestiltskin. Pettigrew. Confronting Voldemort. Lily and her son. The defeat of the Dark Lord.

He opened his eyes to find Dumbledore standing at the foot of his bed. "Headmaster."

"Severus. Good afternoon." Dumbledore smiled at him. "Forgive me for intruding, but I thought it best to inform you of matters beyond the walls of Hogwarts myself, before you make any determinations as to your next course of action."

Severus sat up. He was stiff, and hungrier than he'd been in some time. "Very well. However, I find myself in need of sustenance."

"Of course. That is to be expected." Dumbledore summoned a house elf, who returned minutes later with two trays. One held a slab of roast, vegetables, a mug of coffee and another of water, as well as rolls with butter. The other held, predictably, sweets, and a pot of tea. "I trust you have no objections if I join you in dining?"

"Of course I have no objections." The answer was reflexive, but he actually didn't mind. News would be welcome. He had things he needed to do, and being well informed would help.

And his first concern… "Lily? And her son?"

"They are safe. They are currently residing at Hogwarts, for safety, and also for privacy. Word that Voldemort has been defeated has, of course, spread with remarkable speed."

"Naturally." Severus felt his stomach churn.

Dumbledore studied him for a moment over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "Currently, the story being told is that an unknown and very powerful form of magic was responsible for Voldemort's defeat. However, there have not been any details released as to how such magic was performed. There are, of course, the usual rumors."

Snape snorted, somewhat restored to equilibrium by Dumbledore's mild tone. "I was not aware there were any form of usual rumors for the sudden and unexpected demise of a dark wizard of his capacity."

"There are rumors for everything, I believe. In this case, it is widely believed that Lily or James, or both of them, invoked some form of rare or ancient spell, or perhaps one of the primal laws of magic, in order to protect their son. As Lily survived the attack, most seem to contribute the phenomenon to James. The most popular rumor is that he sacrificed his life to power some sort of extremely powerful warding spell." Dumbledore graced him with another of those long, considering looks. "Both Lily and I were in agreement that neither of us would make any statement until we had heard from you."

That surprised him. "In what regard?"

"In regards to your involvement in the whole affair, of course." Dumbledore set his cup aside, linking his fingers together and tapping his thumbs. "There are a number of options available, in regards to how the matter is presented to the public. At present, as Lily has not made any formal statement, the only thing any one knows is conjecture. That being the case, it was agreed that you should have some say in how the matter is presented, given how involved you were with the events that happened last night."

Severus swallowed a gulp of coffee, grateful for the surge of energy the bitter brew provided. "I would have thought, given your fondness for James Potter, and my own role in this...conflict...that you would be content to support the rumors."

"I have given that some consideration, yes. However, I do not believe it to be the most correct course of action." His eyes were kind. "Severus, my boy, you have done a great service, and performed a most remarkable feat of magic. You defeated the darkest wizard of our age. Naturally, you should have the option to decide whether you wish to make that fact known."

There was something he wasn't saying. Even weary as he was, Severus could read that much. He considered a moment, then pushed up his left sleeve.

The Mark was faded almost to nothing. Almost. But the faint outline still sat upon his skin, like a scar faded with decades of time. He studied it a moment, then looked back at the elder wizard. "The Dark Lord...do you think he is truly gone?"

Dumbledore's expression turned pensive. "I believe that you did defeat Voldemort. However, if you are asking me if that defeat is permanent...I do not believe so. There are many rumors about Voldemort, about steps he undertook to preserve his life. And, as you have noted, the Dark Mark is not gone. Not entirely. I believe that you have dealt him a crushing blow, and that it will take him, perhaps, many years to recover. But I also believe that he will one day return, unless a method can be found to prevent it. A method which I, alas, have not yet managed to figure out."

Severus nodded. The coffee had woken him up, and the food had restored a great deal of his energy. Certainly enough for him to think clearly.

Voldemort's return would put him in a great deal of danger. He was fairly certain he'd blown his cover as a spy, though there was a slim possibility that the Dark Lord might not have guessed where that power came from, strange as it had been.

Lily and her son, Harry, would continue to need protection. There were Death Eaters still at large, and would be even after the Ministry declared itself satisfied. No matter what the Wizarding public thought, he knew better than to believe that all of the Dark Lord's followers would be caught, or remain so. Lucius Malfoy, for example, had no less than three plans for remaining out of Azkaban. And those were just the plans he'd revealed.

The hunt for Death Eaters would put him in a different kind of danger. Particularly with Sirius Black after his blood.

Which brought to mind an altogether different question. "What of Pettigrew?"

"Alas, it appears Peter has escaped. Whether he was released, or simply managed, by some trick, to undo whatever restraints you placed him in, he was not found. I have informed the Ministry, and the Aurors, but whether he will be captured or not I cannot tell." Dumbledore sighed. "It is unfortunate that Sirius, who is an Auror of good standing, is reluctant to believe that Peter is a traitor."

"Of course he is." Severus snorted.

Pettigrew being free meant there was a witness to what had happened. Not a witness likely to come forward, of course. But there was a witness. Which also meant that his ability to be a spy was even more compromised than he had originally feared.

To say nothing of his agreement with Rumplestiltskin. That was a duty he fully intended to discharge. He owed the man a debt he would never be able to repay, and was neither dishonorable enough nor foolish enough to forget it. But to try and retain his position as a spy, with one or two children in his care would be troublesome, at best.

As for his personal feelings...it galled him that Potter might receive credit for what he had done. But he wasn't particularly enamored of fame. He didn't want to deal with the attention becoming a 'savior' would engender. That would make it entirely too difficult to find any kind of privacy, and he had long become used to solitude. Certainly, he had enough to be doing, without being hounded by the Prophet and being stared at or followed every time he ventured out his door.

A middle ground then. And a story that was close enough to the truth to withstand scrutiny.

He looked up at Dumbledore. "I cannot spy. My obligations, to say nothing of how thoroughly my position was compromised by Pettigrew and the Dark Lord, will most likely interfere."

"That is to be expected. And...it is manageable. Invaluable as your services have been, Severus, I am somewhat relieved that you will be freed from that particular obligation." Actual relief suffused Dumbledore's voice, surprising to Severus. "I only ask that you be willing to continue to protect young Harry and his mother."

"The prophecy? You think it is still in force?"

"Now more than ever."

Well, his first priority had always been to protect Lily. He was hardly going to stop now. Of course, it remained to be seen what her opinion of him was. And he had Black and Lupin to contend with. Still, he was not about to abandon her. "I shall remain watchful."

"I am pleased to hear you say so." Dumbledore smiled. "In regards to the official story of Voldemort's defeat..."

"Tell them it was Potter. Potter protected Lily and her son. Tell them...tell them Potter's sacrifice permitted the invocation of an ancient magic, and that I arrived in time to be caught up in the spell. Afterward, acting on your orders and information I had learned, I took Lily and the boy to safety."

"And your connection to Voldemort's followers?"

Severus met his eyes. "Tell them the truth, or as much of it as you wish to tell. I only ask that you not entirely obscure what I have done in your service. And that you do not reveal the true reason I came to you."

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "As you wish. And, if I may inquire as to your plans?"

He sighed. "I need to find the boy Rumplestiltskin spoke of. And I must make plans to attempt to find the other child, the one who is yet to come. And, I suppose, I must make a career for myself. I do not think I wish to teach any longer, nor am I entirely certain I would be able to, with children in hand. However..."

"However, you are an extremely gifted young man. While I would regret losing your expertise in Potions, it can be argued you are far more talented than a mere teaching position will allow you to fulfill. I have noted you to be, not only an excellent potion's master, but also highly qualified in defense, dueling and, a most unusual talent, gifted in crafting your own spells."

Severus stared at the old man in shock. "You cannot be serious." Anger boiled in him, sudden and almost shocking in it's fury.

In all his years as a student, Albus Dumbledore had never deigned to notice him. Nothing save his House and his animosity towards the Marauders. Even when he had renounced Voldemort in favor of saving Lily Potter, when he had agreed to save everyone, including James, his only worth had been as a spy, a source of information.

All his years as a student, all he had ever wanted was for someone to recognize his worth. He had joined the Death Eaters because their members in his house had offered him that recognition, though even then he had felt the hollowness of his awareness that they acknowledged him only to use him. Had even one person offered him true recognition before he had taken the Mark, he would have turned from the path without a thought. And now Dumbledore, the man who had abandoned him to the Marauders, disdained him for what desperation had driven him to...now Dumbledore would offer him acknowledgment?

He mastered his rage with an effort, trying to ignore the pain that came with it. "You would tell me this...now?"

"It is, perhaps, a trifle too late." Albus sighed. "I feel I owe you an apology, Severus. It occurs to me, especially after last night, that I have not truly been fair to you." He looked older, tired. "I suppose it would help nothing to know that my reasons, foolish as they were, were not personal?"

"What reason could you possibly have?" His hands clenched in involuntary fists, and he tightened them in his robes to prevent himself from lashing out. "I always wondered, when I was a boy..."

"I was a blind fool. Only once before had I seen a young Slytherin of your talent. And if I may be so indelicate, your particular background and temperament. I feared the consequences of lax behavior regarding a second such student."

It only took him a moment to understand the implications. Dumbledore had thought he would become another Voldemort.

The tide of emotion that washed over him was far too much for his still weakened body to tolerate, or for his battered Occlumency shields to prevent from showing.

Dumbledore saw it in his face. "I am sorry, my boy."

He managed something, finally, around the lump that was lodged in his throat. "Save your apologies, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sighed again, and rose from his seat. "I think it would be best if I left you now. However, I would wish to inform you of a few more things."

Severus managed a short, jerky nod. It was all the civility he was capable of.

Dumbledore accepted it with a gracious nod of his own. "Sirius Black is demanding that you be tried with the rest of the Death Eaters that have been apprehended. I have done my best to forestall this, however, as Sirius is an Auror...I cannot say yet whether or not I will be successful. Know that I will, if it becomes necessary, speak for you in court. And I believe I have successfully argued against having you sent to Azkaban, on the provision that you remain under my supervision until the matter is reviewed by the Ministry."

Anything was better than Azkaban. The delay was a nuisance, and he was quite frankly tempted to hex Black into next week, but it could be endured. And in truth, he hadn't expected anything else. Certainly, he had expected nothing better, in terms of his status. He managed another curt nod. "Acceptable. And...appreciated."

"I had thought that perhaps it might be. Also..." Albus stroked his beard. "I hope you will not think me presumptuous, Severus, but I perceived that you might, perhaps, require some assistance in the search you have agreed to undertake. And, if I may say so, I do have some small influence in the world. To that end, I have extended some tentative inquiries among the International Confederation of Warlocks, in regards to the magic that infused the mirror you showed me. It is far too soon for those inquiries to bear fruit, but it may be of some small measure of help to you." He met Severus's eyes. "I shall, once the matter of your interview with the Ministry is cleared up, extend you every recommendation, should you wish."

Severus stared at him. His anger, burning so hotly moments before, was suddenly banked, smothered by confusion. "You would offer me your assistance?"

"I would. I cannot change the past, Severus. But I hope that you will permit an old man to at least partially take responsibility and make reparations for his mistakes." Albus held his gaze. "Or, if that does not suit, to make some return on the services you have rendered thus far."

He wasn't sure what to think. A part of him felt sure that Albus was only manipulating him. Another part wished desperately for the Headmaster's expression of feelings to be genuine. After all, acceptance was all he had wanted. Acceptance, recognition, Lily. He had long ago been resigned to the fact that he would not have Lily, but the desire for the other two still burned.

He swallowed again, and forced himself into some semblance of composure. "You will forgive me, Headmaster, if I cannot answer you immediately."

"Naturally. I understand you have a great deal to think about, Severus. And, if Madam Pomfrey's scans this morning are to be believed, you are not fully recovered. You still have a great deal of healing to do."

He felt a flash of irritation that the Medi-witch had scanned him without his consent, along with a flash of concern that he hadn't heard her come in. Then it faded. Pomfrey had always dealt fairly with him, and acted professionally. She hadn't judged him. Besides if he was honest, he knew he wasn't fully recovered. He still ached from the Cruciatus and the magical drain. More time to recover would be welcome. So would more time to think, and to plan.

He managed a nod of farewell to Dumbledore as the elder wizard left the room, then leaned back against the head of the bed, his mind spinning with all the things he knew he must do, and all the things Dumbledore had said.

Dumbledore was right. He did have a great deal to think about.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _So...opinions?_

 _I'll be honest, I hadn't actually planned the whole confrontation between Dumbledore and Severus. But they apparently wanted to have it. And I do like the idea of Dumbledore realizing he was unfair to Severus and making amends._

 _Next up...Lily and Severus have their first real conversation since they were fifteen..._


	5. Chapter 5: A Distressing Conversation

**Chapter Five: A Distressing Conversation**

Severus emerged from his room a few hours later. He had managed to form some tentative plans regarding his possible trial, and his search, as well as his future occupation, should he manage to escape the trial with his freedom and his life intact. He was not a man generally given to hoping overmuch, but he did have Dumbledore's support, tentatively at least, and Dumbledore had a great deal of clout with the Ministry.

On that note, he would probably also accept Dumbledore's help in establishing contacts, both internationally and in Britain, to help in his search for Baelfire and the unnamed child. While he had hopes that his own skills as a Potions Master would allow him to forge his own networks, such things took months and years to form. Given that at least one of the children had already arrived, he didn't have the luxury of waiting so long. Perhaps for the second, he could afford a more leisurely course of action, but not for the boy.

For the time being, he would have to wait. He disliked the delay, but understood the necessity. Besides, it would give him time to fine tune his plans, get his thoughts and his notes in order. It would also give him time to heal from the magical drain and the after-effects of eighteen months as a spy in the Dark Lord's ranks. That Voldemort had never suspected him didn't mean that the time spent had been without consequences.

Lunch was served by a House Elf, and followed by Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a thorough going over before agreeing that he could be allowed to walk about, provided he didn't rush or exert himself too much. She forbade him from brewing for an additional two days, and from heavy spell-work for another two, then left him to his own devices.

Severus re-dressed, then sought out the Headmaster to convey his acceptance of Dumbledore's assistance. He also wanted to check on his classes. Everything else aside, he had signed a contract to teach Potions for the year, and he was anxious that the job be done well, even if he did plan to retire afterward.

His first stop was the Potions class. Fortunately, he'd had cause to be absent before on business for Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. He'd also been absent due to injury before, and had made a point of finding and vetting a suitable substitute, another potions student near his own age, though less accomplished. He'd met the young man while obtaining his mastery, and knew him well enough to know he had a solid command of the basics and theory, a good eye for avoiding disasters, and a tolerance for noise and chaos that Severus himself did not possess. The two of them had a healthy respect for each other, if not a real friendship. The other man, Jacob Newberry, was two years older and a year from obtaining his mastery. Given his patience with the students, Severus was quite willing to recommend the man as his successor, should Newberry indicate a continued interest in teaching.

Classes had been canceled, due to the widespread celebration of the Dark Lord's demise, but the classroom was in good order. He spoke with Newberry a few moments, feeling out the man's opinions on various matters. The other man had already been summoned by Dumbledore and informed that his services would be needed for the time being. He was also quite willing to consider finishing his Mastery while working as an assistant professor at Hogwarts, followed by a career in teaching, with research opportunities.

His next stop was Dumbledore's office. The elder wizard was elbow deep in correspondence when he arrived, but quite willing to take a break and speak with him. It was almost...comforting. Dumbledore had never been so welcoming of him before, and it was a bit disconcerting, but he found he could appreciate it. They spoke of the news (widespread celebrations, and the Statute of Secrecy was in grave danger of being broken, making the Obliviation teams the only ones _not_ enjoying the new-found freedom from war), accusations (word had spread about his rescue of Lily Potter, but Sirius was still proclaiming him a Death Eater and demanding a trial), and plans (Dumbledore was in agreement about Newberry, and quite willing to be of assistance, as well as gratified that Severus was accepting of it).

He left the office feeling better, and a little more sure of his plans than before, and made his way to the Owlery. With Black's accusations being noised about, he wasn't allowed to leave Hogwarts, and he wanted to procure some parchment, new quills, and some journals to keep record and track of the various plans he had set in motion. He didn't need the records, of course, but he preferred to have notes, and documentation was vital for testing new potions, which he planned to do as soon as he'd recorded and test brewed some of the ideas he'd had. He also wanted to collate his notes from his years at Hogwarts out of his old books. There were several potions revisions he wanted to share with Newberry, if the man was going to be teaching Potions at Hogwarts.

He wrote out his requests and sent them off, then elected to seek out the library, to see if he could find any books that might help him in his search, or his research into the unique magic he had unwittingly tapped after Rumplestiltskin's instruction. It seemed somewhat like accidental magic, or the more adult form of 'wishing magic' he'd sometimes heard of, but far more controlled. Either way, it had been powerful, and he wanted to know more about it.

He spent a good two hours in the library, picking through the books, pulling out those that seemed like they might be helpful. Most of them weren't, but he found three or four that looked like they might contain useful information. He informed Madam Pince of his selections, then left, intending to return to his infirmary rooms for dinner and another check by Madam Pomfrey, hopefully with the chance of being allowed to rest in his own quarters afterward.

Lily was standing in the hall, near the windows across from the Library, when he stepped out. She turned as he appeared, and Severus paused. They hadn't spoken since he'd left her with Black and Dumbledore in Dumbledore's office the night before.

"Severus." Her voice was quiet. A little hoarse, which was no surprise given the circumstances.

"Lily." He forced himself to remain calm. "You are well? And your son?"

"I suppose." She looked away, but not before he caught the sheen of tears in her emerald green eyes. "Harry is sleeping. Professor McGonagall...that is, Minerva's watching him. I just...I wanted some air, some time to think."

"Understandable. You have been through...a great deal." He paused, then spoke again. "I...I was not at my most coherent last night, however...I offer my condolences on your loss." It was hard to get the words out, but he managed.

He nearly regretted the words when Lily swallowed hard, fighting tears. He offered her a handkerchief from his pocket, then waited while she dabbed her eyes and tried not to cry. He felt uncomfortable, but couldn't bring himself to leave.

Finally Lily regained her composure. "It's hard. I keep thinking he'll show up, tell me it's all right. Or that Sirius and Remus will owl me, say it was a mistake and that he's recovering at St. Mungos and will be ready to come home in a few days. Or that it's some...some nightmare, and I'll wake up."

"That is not unreasonable." He'd had similar moments in his life. He shifted, the books heavy in his arms. He got a hand on his wand and, with a thought, Banished them to his Infirmary room. "I am sorry I could not arrive earlier."

"Are you?" The blunt question took him by surprise, as did the spark of grief-driven anger that sparked in Lily's green eyes.

He started to ask what she meant, but Lily kept speaking. "I know you never liked James when you were in school. And Sirius says...Sirius thinks that you arrived late, that you didn't save James because you didn't want to. That you're only letting James have the credit for the spell because Albus forced you to. Or because James really was responsible for the spell, and you know you could never take credit for it because Veritaserum would reveal the truth."

Anger ignited in him then. Anger at Black, for his prejudice and his mouth, anger that Lily could accuse him. He forced it down, throttling his temper until it was under control. "You were there Lily. You know full well who used that power. Will you follow Black, even if it means denying your own senses?" His voice remained, even, level, but it took most of his willpower to keep it that way.

Lily faltered. "No. Of course not. But James..."

He cut across her, unwilling to listen to her accuse him again. "I have never cared for James Potter. He was a bully and a braggart in school, and he targeted me from the very first day, as you yourself can testify. You were there when our rivalry began on the train, when he first called me by a derogatory nickname I had not earned. However, be that as it may..."

He paused, struggling to form the words he knew needed to be said, but that he had hoped never to be forced into speaking aloud. "Be that as it may, he was a brave man. By all accounts, he was a capable Auror, and a good comrade to those he fought with, if a little impetuous. And he died defending his family, fighting against the Dark Lord. He fought well enough to buy me time to reach you, even with the Fidelius breached. There are few who could have or would have done so."

He met Lily's eyes. "I will never like James Potter. It is quite possible I shall always hate him, or at least hate the boy I remember from our school days. But the man...was perhaps worth respecting, as a fighter if nothing else. And for your sake and your son's, I would have saved him, had I a choice."

"Would you really?"

"I have done so once before. Ask Dumbledore if you doubt. Ask him what my price was for becoming his spy, for betraying the Dark Lord." His voice was harsher than he meant it to be, but there was no helping that.

"Your...price?" The anger and accusation in her eyes faltered.

"My price." He paused. But there was no point in hiding, and he might as well be despised for what he had done, if Lily was determined to hate him. Had Lily died, perhaps he would have hidden it forever, but as matters stood..."Has he told you of the prophecy?"

"Only that there was one, and that Voldemort was targeting us because of it."

He nodded, his chest tightening with the knowledge that she would most likely damn him for the words he spoke. "I heard the prophecy. I thought it rubbish, but took it took the Dark Lord anyway. He took it far more seriously than I had ever intended. When I learned that he had targeted your family, I went to Dumbledore. I asked for your safety. When he demanded to know if I would leave your husband and son to die, I told him to protect all of you. Including James Potter. His price for your safety was that I should become his spy in the Dark Lord's inner circle. A price I gave, unfailingly, until last night."

Lily stepped back, a mix of anger, shock, and grief in her eyes. "Why?"

His jaw clenched, and his voice had gone low, soft and almost vicious when he replied. "Because I remember the summers in Spinner's End, even if you do not care to. I remember...I did it for the red-haired girl I called my friend." He fought back sharper words, and his voice had gone slightly hoarse when he finished. "For the reason I apologized, and meant it, Fifth Year after I made my mistake, and called you a word I never meant to utter. For the reason my Patronus is what it is."

Lily's eyes snapped, anger briefly overpowering grief. "If all of that mattered so much...why would you become a Death Eater at all, Severus?"

A laugh ripped it's way out of his throat then, so sharp and harsh and bitter that it hurt. "What other choice could I make?"

She started to speak, but he cut her off, the words that had curdled in his chest since Fifth Year boiling out of his chest, past his ability to control them. "I was in Slytherin, under the watchful eye of Lucius Malfoy and his compatriots. A half-blood, and scion of a disgraced line at that. To have scorned the politics and policies and companionship of my dorm-mates would have been tantamount to suicide. Particularly when the Marauders..." He spat the word, too incensed to bother moderating his tone any longer. "...were content to hunt me down and persecute me for the mere fact of my existence. Certainly their constant ridicule and targeting for pranks ensured I would have no support beyond my own house, even if the prejudices of the war had not already begun to cause suspicion to fall upon all Slytherins. And you know as well as I that the teachers did little enough to stop them."

He stepped forward, closer to her, using his height to look down at her. His voice went low again, sharp and ugly with his anger. "You, of all the people in this world, know what my home life was. What my father was, and how his behavior influenced my views of the world. How much I sought the wizarding world for solace, for safety, for a place to belong. You know as well that the Marauders, Black, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew, made sure I had no such thing within these halls. The only ones who offered my any safety were the Slytherins who valued my skills, if nothing else of me. Should I have turned my back upon them, left myself open to their retribution as well, when no one else, including the professors of this school, offered me another direction?"

"But the things they did...the way people like Avery and Wilks treated people..." Lily's voice had lost steam.

"Like calling me Snivellus? Hanging me upside down and stripping me in front of the school during O.W.L week?" His voice turned cutting. "Like sending me to face a werewolf on a full moon? Black did that once, as a prank." He had never revealed who the werewolf was, and had no reason to now. "Potter saved my life, but Dumbledore made sure I never forgot the debt during my remaining time at school. And he gave Black no punishment, though he should have been expelled for his actions."

He stepped closer still, close enough to be nearly chest to chest with her, to feel her breath on his face as she stared him. "Tell me Lily, what should I have chosen, when the greatest examples of the light, the 'heroes' of the school, were content to make my life hell, or leave me to be hunted? When I was persecuted, simply for 'existing', as Potter so charmingly put it that day? What impetus had I to make a different choice when my only link to the light, my only friend outside of the Dark Lords junior followers, turned her back on me, refused my apology, and joined my tormentors?" The fire of his anger began to fade, cooled somewhat now that he had finally spoken the words that had twisted in his gut for so long. "Should I have chosen defiance and death, turned away from the only people who offered me any form of recognition, safety, respect? A Death Eater's kindness is a poor sort, and frequently cursed, but it was more than any scion of the light offered me."

Lily's expression was a mix of shock, hurt, and a kind of defensive anger. Severus stared at her, seeing how overwrought she was. The last embers of his fury died, leaving him cold and weary. He had been angry for years, his fury at how his school days had gone fueling his strength and drive, his ability to survive the Death Eaters and thrive there in spite of his half-blood status. But it was hardly all Lily's fault, and he had not meant to confront her with it. Not so close after the death of her husband. Bitter and angry as he was, he hadn't meant to be that harsh, or that cruel.

He stepped back, giving her space. Lily looked up at him with wide eyes, full of turmoil. He took a deep breath, regaining his control, drawing calm and formality about him like a cloak. "I apologize. I should not have lost my temper and accused you."

He dipped his head in apology, then met her eyes again. "I was a Death Eater. I have done things that you would no doubt despise me for, including giving the prophecy to the Dark Lord, though I did not know it would set him on your trail. If Black has his way, I shall pay in full for my crimes soon enough. Despise me for them, if you wish. But do not mistake my reasons for what I have done. And know this. I would have saved Potter, if I could have. For your sake if not his."

He let his gaze linger on her face for a moment, then lowered his head in a brief bow. "Excuse me." She made no move, so he slipped past her, heading for the Infirmary.

By the time he returned to the Infirmary, his stomach was twisted into knots. He settled on the chair by the bed, breathing deeply as he attempted to reassert control over himself.

He couldn't find it in himself to regret the words he had spoken to Lily. They had needed to be said. He did, however, regret the timing.

Lily might well hate him for the things he had revealed, or for having attacked her in her mourning. And he could not find it in himself to deny her right to do so. But he regretted that he might have destroyed any hope of reconciliation. Of course, if Black had his way, it would be a moot point. He would be in Azkaban, at the mercy of the Dementors, before the year was out. Lily would be encouraged to forget him, the Death Eater traitor.

That might even be for the best. As much as a part of him hoped for reconciliation, loved her still, it might be wise to let it lie. The days of their childhood were far behind them, and the gulf between the people they'd become was a mile wide. Their choices had almost made them strangers to one another, however much he might wish otherwise.

Well, he would let Lily choose. It had been her choice, her rejection, that had driven them apart before, even if his folly had been the driving force. It was her life his foolish search for recognition had destroyed. She could be the one to choose whether to ignore him, hate him, or reconcile.

In the meantime, he had plans to make, research to pursue.

He set thoughts of Lily aside and reached for the first of the books on his nightstand.

 _ **Author's Note:** I've always thought these two needed a confrontation like this. Lily needs to understand where Severus is coming from, and Severus just needed to get that out of his system. _


	6. Chapter 6: Planning and Preparation

**Chapter Six: Planning and Preparation**

Three days of reading gave him little more insight into the magic he had wielded while saving Lily. Most books dealt with wild magic as an uncontrolled force, inexplicable and untamed, which was frequently abandoned once a child received a wand and began to learn control. Books describing wandless and wordless magic came closer to describing his experience, but weren't quite accurate. Most of them described the magic as learned through hard repetition and concentration, not the direction and honing of emotion.

Severus eventually concluded that Rumplestiltskin's magic was a variant of wordless, wandless magic, with an element of emotional control that made it similar to the uncontrolled wild magic of children. It was an interesting system that made him suspect that the other mage was self-trained. Given his own state of exhaustion, which persisted for two days after his awakening, he was forced to conclude that Rumplestiltskin was also a very powerful magic wielder, most likely stronger than either the Dark Lord or Dumbledore.

He spent a full day studying the mirror, and his own Pensieved memories of the magic he had used, detailing everything he could discover about the magical signature and effects and committing the information to memory before passing it on to Dumbledore to pass on to his contacts among the International Confederation of Warlocks. Dumbledore in turn suggested further tests, helping him hone his sense of the other-world power, and separating the signature of Rumplestiltskin himself from the foreign power of another reality. The spells intrigued him. Though he was quite proficient in identifying magical signatures, he had never honed the talent to the precision that Dumbledore had, and he found the new information and skills to be quite gratifying.

He could have easily spent longer studying the strange magic, but there were other things he needed to take care of. He finished Dumbledore's tests, passed the resultant new information back to the elder wizard, then turned his attention to other tasks.

His trial had been set for the second week of December. Nothing Dumbledore did or said could convince Sirius Black that he hadn't been involved in the death of James Potter. And no argument in the world could erase the Dark Lord's Mark from his arm. Dumbledore had promised to testify for him, and while he knew Black would demand he be questioned under Veritaserum, he also knew that the Wizengamot had agreed to limit the questions he could be asked. In addition, he had the Pensieved memories that both he and Dumbledore had provided, as well as a few other Order members, revealing his role as a spy. Those would be viewed in a closed court, for his own protection, but they would hopefully be enough.

When he wasn't preparing for his trial, Severus worked on getting his projects in order. He'd already given Dumbledore notice of his resignation, provided he was not shipped to Azkaban. He'd agreed to finish his year contract, out of a sense of duty and obligation, but after that he fully intended to pursue the research that he had put off. Newberry would replace him, probably to the intense gratitude of the students, who regarded him as a tyrant.

His first project would be to compile, detail and submit the revisions he had made to several potions over his student years. He'd written everything into the margins of his notes and his school books as a boy, and now he worked at transcribing the details into a journal. If nothing else, it was a good first step in establishing his reputation in the field of Potions. He was a Potions Master, one of the youngest ever, but even with his Mastery, he needed to prove his skills.

Another journal was procured to detail the spells he had invented. Several of them were far too dangerous for public use, but he thought the Aurors might have use of them. If nothing else, he might see about writing a supplementary Defense textbook, or an advanced spell-book with them. He might have considered eradicating them entirely, but there were far too many Death Eaters who knew of his spells. His gift for destructive spell-work had been one of the reasons the Dark Lord had been eager to recruit him, and he'd had to prove himself with his more deadly arsenal more than once.

A third journal he started for potions he wished to experiment with creating. He'd had several ideas during his tenure as both a student and a teacher, but a school was hardly a place to implement them. The Dark Lord had allowed him some experimentation during his term as a Death Eater, but his talents then had been focused on destructive potions and poisons. Should he escape Azkaban, he hoped to be able to brew and perfect some of his other potions. Defense potions and healing potions, based on the work he'd done modifying potions in previous years. He'd also heard word of a Wolfsbane Potion that was in development, and the concept intrigued him. Such a potion might be complicated, but it was worth making if it rendered werewolves docile. And if it could be modified to eliminate the transformation entirely…well, that development would take time, but he saw no reason why he couldn't experiment. Though he would have to ask Bellby if the other potioneer minded.

And that led to his fourth journal, a list of professional contacts he needed to make. Being a Potions Master was all well and good, but knowing the right people was even more critical, especially in the wizarding community. He did have his contacts among the Death Eaters, but he would need others. Particularly if he was going to break away from the Dark Lord's former circle.

Slughorn might be able to help him, but he wasn't sure the old man would bother. Besides, Slughorn had never cared for him as a student, and he had no desire to try and ingratiate himself now. He saw no reason to seek the assistance of the old man if he could avoid it. Not to mention, he'd had enough of offers that came with strings.

He'd made some effort at following Potions publications since his graduation, and even more once he'd become a teacher. Now he went through his books with painstaking care, looking for names. Prominent Healers at St. Mungos, to whom he might present his work in healing potions or spells. Other Potions Masters, like Bellby, or even Newberry, once the man had finished his Mastery. Newberry lacked his creative drive, but his understanding of the basics was excellent, and he would be a solid partner for testing and verifying, if he agreed.

There were also several prominent families in the wizarding world that he might seek out. Families like the Longbottoms, or the Weasleys. The Weasleys were poor, but well liked. There were also the Bones, the Diggorys, The Greengrass family, and multiple others who had sided with law-abiding forces or declared themselves neutral in the conflict that had rocked the wizarding community.

There were also international contacts to consider. Dumbledore's associates would be a good start, but he intended to go farther afield. That way, if the wizards and witches of Britain turned him away, he might find a place in the States, or in Europe. Most countries had magical communities, and he couldn't afford to ignore any possible opportunity.

Besides, even if he could make a home in England, he would need those contacts to help him in his search. His search for the unnamed child, and the boy Baelfire. There was no indication where the two children had or would appear, and he couldn't afford to lose them simply because he was tangled in bureaucratic arguments. Magic and potential consequences notwithstanding, he had no desire to be forsworn.

That led him to make another journal, detailing his plans for searching. Or, in the event of his imprisonment, for asking Dumbledore to search. He would start in England, providing there were any incidents to research in England. From there he would branch outward. Rumplestiltskin had, to his ear, spoken English, albeit with an accent that reminded him of McGonnagall. Therefore, he would start his search in English speaking countries. He would also look closely at Europe, as a matter of proximity. There was every possibility that the connection had been forged in some inter-dimensional proximity, wherein Rumplestiltskin's home approximated the Dark Lord's manor in England, and the curse would be cast in a similar state of locational relation. At least, that was one theory that Dumbledore had explained to him.

He would have to read up on inter-dimensional theory if he escaped Azkaban. It was not a widely studied branch of magic, and he doubted he would find much of use, but it was worth investigating if he could.

Teaching was a difficult task, combined with all his other concerns. At Dumbledore's request, and as a public show of good faith, he had returned to his classes. He couldn't help snarling at his students, especially when they were careless or inattentive but, mindful of his public image, he managed to refrain from taking excessive points, or assigning too many detentions. He did assign one, to a boy who had thought it would be 'fun' to experiment with his potion and nearly vaporized his cauldron and his workstation, to say nothing of his partner. He was careful to avoid showing too great a favoritism to Slytherin, or too great an animosity to Gryffindor, much though it galled him.

Between planning and grading, he worked long into the night, often getting only three hours of sleep before tumbling out of bed to prepare for the following day. The pace was wearing, but he hadn't been sleeping much before. Not with the nightmares and memories that had tormented him. In many ways, he welcomed the exhaustion and the shortened sleep cycles as an antidote to the nightly reliving of his sins. In any case, working himself to exhaustion was far easier than brewing Dreamless Sleep, far more rewarding, and far less addictive.

Being busy also kept him from dwelling on Lily overmuch. He knew she was still in the castle with her son, but he barely ever saw her, and never long enough to strike up a conversation. He heard from Professor Sprout that she was considering buying a home in Hogsmeade, or possibly returning to Potter Manor. The news left him conflicted. On one hand, he wished he could renew his relationship, or perhaps rebuild one, with her. On the other, it was painful having her so near. She hadn't approached him since their argument by the library, and he couldn't decide, in his moments of consideration, whether he was grateful for the respite, or bitter over it.

Either way, the next move was hers.

Thinking about Lily, though, also made him think about family. And children. If things went the way he hoped they would, if he succeeded in fulfilling his promise to Rumplestiltskin, then he'd have children. Two of them, of different ages. He wasn't sure how old the boy was, but the picture Rumplestiltskin had showed him was that of a teenager. He'd be safe in assuming that Baelfire was a teen, or a young man.

That left him with the consideration of housing. On his own, he'd have remained in Spinners End. He hated the house, and it was a dreary place in desperate need of repair and refurbishing, but it was paid for and established, as well as familiar. His books were there, and his materials, and what few possessions and bits of his Muggle life he'd bothered to keep. For a lone bachelor it was comfortable enough. For raising a child, however…

He wouldn't delude himself by thinking he was a good man, or that he'd be a particularly good father, but he was determined not to be the kind of parent his own had been. Provided he wasn't in jail by Christmas, he had the means to find a comfortable dwelling place at least. Something that didn't have such an air of misery soaked into the very walls. Some place that he didn't love and loathe all at the same time.

Which brought him to the subject of what he did want and need in a home. If he was going to move, he was going to make sure his new place suited him. In theory, he might lay claim to any estate the Princes had, but he'd never heard of any inheritance of his, and it wouldn't do to assume he'd received anything from his mother's family.

He'd saved his money over the years from teaching and commissions he'd done over the years. Enough that he might manage a small, modest place. He found a roll of parchment that he labeled 'Home' and used it to list his various needs.

A basement, a large one, was essential for Potions research of any kind. Other than that...well, he had enough of stairs at Hogwarts, but he also valued his privacy. He didn't want people to simply be able to wander around and poke their nose into his business. So perhaps a two-story building would be acceptable. Well, three if he counted the basement.

He'd want more than one bathroom, for his own peace of mind as well as the childrens. An infant might not care, but he remembered enough of being a teenager to know that privacy was a hard-won and much-desired commodity. Particularly a young girl. There was also the convenience of having a downstairs loo as well as an upstairs one.

A kitchen would be good. He had never done much cooking, but suspected it was much like potions, and that he'd manage well enough. He certainly wasn't going to be one of those fathers who lived on take-out, beer and fish-and-chips. He didn't see much use in a spare dining area, if the kitchen was of an adequate size, but a room for his books would be invaluable. Perhaps more than one. And, of course a sitting room, for relaxing and perhaps a guest or two. The children might have them, even if he doubted very many people would be visiting him.

Then again, if he was successful in cultivating contacts, he might have reason to entertain after all. And he doubted Albus would leave him alone.

So, three, perhaps four bedrooms, at least two lavatories, a kitchen, a sitting room, and a study or a library, plus a basement Potions laboratory. And whatever magical or Muggle devices he chose to furnish his home with.

It occurred to him then that he had no idea if the children were magical or not. He'd assumed, given Rumplestiltskin's obvious power, that his son would possess magic. And if the girl-child was to be a 'Savior' of some kind and a curse-breaker, magic seemed a prerequisite. But there was no guarantees. Lily was powerful enough, but there was no question that Petunia hadn't had a drop of magic in her blood. Plenty of magical families had Squibs, just like there were plenty of Muggle-born children.

He himself had been raised with a foot in both worlds, though his father's influence had made him flee to the Wizarding world as soon as he could. But he still recalled much of what he had known, and there were aspects of the Muggle world that were helpful. Like electricity. And refrigerators. Magic could, of course, duplicate both, but it cost power and energy that might be spent on other things. But again, he had no idea if either child would possess magic. He had no intention of 'going Muggle' as it was called, but after careful consideration, he thought it might be wise to plan for the eventuality of non-magical children in his home. Just in case.

For that matter, given that Rumplestiltskin had mentioned a 'Land Without Magic', he might find himself venturing into the Muggle world more frequently than he expected. Which in turn meant it would be best if he knew enough not to attract attention. Over a year of being a spy made being conspicuous distasteful to him. He had no desire to stand out, the way most wizards did when they ventured into Muggle areas.

Which meant he'd have to have an appropriate wardrobe as well. Transfiguration and glamours could only do so much.

He considered his scroll, then owled for yet another journal, detailing all the Muggle information or equipment he'd need to function in Muggle society. The list was quite comprehensive, and he was certain it wasn't complete.

He spent the next week hovering near some of the Muggle-born and half-blood students, trying to gather information on what he might need to know. He could have asked, he supposed, but it seemed beneath his dignity. And he highly doubted the Muggle Studies teacher was much better informed than he was. He'd seen the recommended materials, and even his childhood in Spinners End had taught him that the materials were very out-of-date.

Late into the third week of November, Dumbledore stopped by his rooms and gave him a sheaf of parchment, sealed within a heavy envelope. It turned out to be a documented record of unusual magic that had occurred in the British Isles over the past several centuries. In particular, Dumbledore's source had marked out two sections, regarding incidents in London. The first talked of a 'residue' discovered in Central Park, the second of a magical disturbance at a residence in London proper, at a brownstone owned by a wealthy businessman, who had reported the disappearance of a boy he'd adopted. The incidents were about eight months apart. They both featured magic that was, even in the Wizarding World, 'uncanny' and 'otherworldly'.

Severus was skeptical about the validity of the reports, not least because they had been filed nearly three hundred years ago, but after consideration, he decided he might investigate after all. Magic was a strange thing, and wizards were a long-lived race. Not to mention that there were a plethora of spells and potions that could keep even a person alive for a long time. Besides, he had no idea what kind of powers Rumplestiltskin's world possessed. For all he knew, there was some miraculous 'Potion of Youth' or a Philosopher's Stone. Or people could simply be longer lived in his world.

At least the report provided confirmation that the incidents had occurred in Muggle London, rather than the Wizarding World. Which meant that some of his suppositions about the amount of time he'd need to spend among non-magic folk were correct. He was glad to have at least one of his theories verified.

He wondered if he might be able to make the acquaintance of the Unspeakable who had provided Dumbledore with the information. Unspeakables were generally a lonely and reclusive group, but they might be willing to speak with him, provided he went about it the right way. As a researcher, and as a fellow recluse.

He had, in fact, considered a job as an Unspeakable once. But at the time, he'd wanted more recognition than such a job usually earned. He'd wanted to make a name for himself. He'd been seduced by promises of fame and power. In hindsight, he wished he'd stuck to his original idea. As an Unspeakable, he might have had the leisure to pursue his Potions research, without the tangle the Dark Lord had made of his life.

Of course, if that had happened, he might not have saved Lily. Then again, he might not have lost her to Potter either. And she might not have been in danger if he hadn't overheard the prophecy. But thinking of that only made for sleepless nights and tormented dreams, so he did his best _not_ to think of it. It was easier, and safer to his sanity, to go over all the things he needed and wanted to do, prioritizing them.

It was easier to think about how his plans would be demolished, if he was sentenced to Azkaban, and how he might have to manage then. Or what he might be able to manage, before the Dementors sucked every ounce of happiness and sanity out of him. Always assuming, of course, that Black didn't persuade the Wizengamot to have him Kissed.

In the dark nights when the blackness seeped into his soul, he wondered which was worse. Having your soul sucked away, or enduring it's slow erosion over years and years of continual torment. He'd heard the Kiss was unbearable to watch, let alone endure, but he couldn't imagine that suffering Azkaban would be much better. On those nights, it was an effort not to set fire to his carefully recorded notes and journals. He was sorely tempted, in those bleak hours, to burn his plans and dreams to ashes, to leave no scrap of hope that Black and the Wizengamot could wrest from him.

He distracted himself by talking over his trial preparations with Dumbledore, and his research plans. They discussed his Potions, his prospective contacts, his plans. They played chess every now and then.

When Dumbledore was busy, Severus worked on marking student assignments, and teaching Newberry what he needed to know about being a full-time teacher, especially of Potions. Jacob was appreciative of his advice, and he was amiable enough that the hours spent in his company were no hardship. He was also quite willing to assist Severus with experimentation, and excited over the innovations Severus chose to share with him. Like most Potioneers, he'd been trained one way and rarely experimented with other techniques. Mastery required a certain amount of innovation, of course, but Severus had always been far more daring than most and Newberry was modest enough to accept that.

The work helped, as did both men's courtesy and acceptance. Too, his colleagues were supportive of him. Even if he suspected a few of them agreed with Black, none of them said so to his face or in his hearing, and that was a relief. McGonagall was even almost kind to him.

Still, as the trial date loomed nearer, his spirits sank. Sleep became nearly impossible, and his mood worsened, to the point where he was liable to snap at anyone who spoke to him.

It was in this mood that Lupin found him, the evening of the first day in December.

 _ **Author's Note:** A bit of an interlude for poor Severus to sort out his thoughts and plans._

 _Next up...Severus has unexpected support...and the trial date arrives._


End file.
